


kindness in smaller scales

by vannral



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Outsider, Pining, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Reunions, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: “Don’t run away from us,” Beau grunts, her thumb digging into his palm.He misses them.Caleb leaves the Mighty Nein. Beau is not having it. His feelings toward Fjord are spilling over. Includes also pining.





	1. Chapter 1

The cottage kitchen smells like tea leaves and freshly baked scones with melted butter.

“Y’know, I saw this one bakery that had these with like, I dunno – seeds, I guess? They were kinda rad.” A pause. “If bread rolls are rad, whatever. When did you start baking, man?”

Caleb pauses. _When I left,_ would be the honest answer but he doesn’t want to poke at Beau’s bleeding wounds any more than he has to, so he says:

“I do not know what you are talking about. Try it with jam.”

“You’re fucking insane, let me see. What’s that, apple jam?”

“Apricot.”

“Awesome, gimme.”

Beau puts spoonfuls of jam on her scone and shoves it in her mouth. She’s still twitchy, and there’s a restless, drowning sort of look in her blue eyes like there has been every time she’s come here.

Something nostalgic, something like worry and despair.

(holding herself back, biting her tongue, keeping still. for _his damn sake.)_

Caleb doesn’t like it, but he has no idea how to deal with it, how to fix it in any way that would stick for longer than a goddamn _day. _

It’s been clawing under the surface, ready to come out since the first time she found him, which is why he’s not surprised when she says, a little off-handed and too casual: “They’re getting closer, you know.”

He tries not to look at her as he adds honey to his tea. “How close?”

“Pfft. Got their asses lost near the fucking swamp for a bit, got turned around.”

“Beauregard - “

“No, they’re fucking not _that _close that you gotta high-tail out of here, you’re missing the point.” She throws him an annoyed glare over the breakfast table. “That what you really wanna ask? Be evasive, be my fucking guest, but stop pretending, we’re way past that.”

They’re finally doing this, then. Well, she’s always been so very perceptive.

Caleb bites inside of his cheek. “They should not,” he murmurs, trying to focus on his tea. How the colour darkens, how the honey dissolves in the steaming water. “They have more important things to worry about than where I am. They do not need to know.”

Beau clenches her jaw, narrows her eyes. “Bullshit, you don’t get to do that. You weren’t there – he went nuts, okay, and Jester was ready to - “ she closes her mouth, her nostrils flaring. “You need to come back.”

“I do _not. _I cannot – it is – yes, I am a coward, the most selfish bastard there is, I do know that, Beauregard, but – I _can’t.”_

A tense silence fills the kitchen.

Beauregard stares at him, hard and unblinking – and then she sighs. It’s been a long time coming, after all.

“You were fuckin’ forgiven the second you walked out, man,” she says and runs a hand through her hair. “Everyone got it, okay?”

“It still does not mean anything – how could it, after Yasha – _this _was a betrayal to everyone, it had to be - “

“The fuck it had to be, it wasn’t. Look, everyone knows Ikithon is an asshole. He abused you, he manipulated and mutilated and fucked up a whole bunch of skilled kids into something worse to fight wars. Everyone _gets _it, Caleb. Hey_._”

She reaches over the table and grips his hand.

She’s always got a strong grip, warm and calloused and scarred with years of training.

Caleb finds it comforting in it’s familiarity and strength. In being purely _her. _

“Come back, Caleb.”

She’s _pleading._

He stares at her face, so dear and important to him, and he sees the crack in there, her vulnerability, and in that moment, he loves her so fiercely and knows that she loves him back just as viciously.

She’s given him time, she’s tried her best to be kind in letting him think things through, she’s _tried her best _to give him space even though it infuriates her. It all overwhelms him, rattles him by the bones.

“I can’t face them, Beauregard,” he chokes, his wet eyes desperately searching for hers. “Do not ask me to. I let them down. I let _you_ down.”

Beau jolts back, taken aback. “Wait, no, what? You didn’t - “

“I did. I gave up, I left the group - “

“ - yeah, sure did, but that doesn’t mean you’re not fuckin’ allowed to come back. C’mon, Caleb. Bein’ isolated isn’t good, either.”

_Better than to doom you all to a fate worse than death, _he thinks grimly and shifts his hand so the sleeves cover the scars.

Staring back at him, she grunts: “Caleb, he really wants to find you.”

A wounded, wrecked sound escapes Caleb’s throat. “He should not. He really should not.”

“Tough ‘cause that’s what he’s doing. And - not gonna lie – it’d be kinda impressive, too, if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“Beauregard.”

“What, shut up, I’ve been forced to watch his stupid pining shit for days now.”

Exasperated, he squints at her, but then his shoulders slump together and he buries his head into his hand. He will not ask, will _not._ “How are they?” he asks instead, fully aware that his defenses are worn down. Crumbled, weakened into splinters.

She raises an eyebrow. “What d’you think?” she asks, but it’s not unkind. “You weren’t there for the aftermath. It was - “ Beau trails off and bites her lip. “It was fucking messy, not gonna lie. Still is.”

Caleb says nothing to that. His guts are filled with cold dread and the guilt and shame rise into his throat hot and sour like bile.

“He - they – you are better off without me there.”

“Shut up. That’s bullshit and you know it. Look.” Beau gets up and pins a hard look at him. “I’m gonna say this exactly once and the next time you’re gonna hear it is on your fuckin’ death bed so open your ears: I love you, you asshole. And I damn well care about what happens to your ass. So you better come back.”

Caleb’s breathing hitches. “Beauregard - “

Her cheeks turn a little pink, and annoyed, she scoffs, turns her gaze away to the wall.

“So damn sappy,” she mutters to herself. “Look, I get the whole ‘wanna have some time for myself ‘cause my super abusive mentor just keep houndin’ me and putting everyone I love into danger’ shit or whatever, and that’s why I didn’t wanna press it, but you gotta communicate. We’re in this together, we deal with it together and you can’t get rid of us that easily. Not after everything. We fucking _miss _you, okay?”

Caleb stares at her, stunned.

His throat closes. His mind that has been full of turmoil, sharp thoughts and anxiety, fear, guilt and pure _panic _ for the last two weeks, slowly, _slowly _quiets down. Smooths over. Grows serene, calm and comforting.

“You are not lying,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, no shit. I mean, I’m an awesome liar, but you can count yourself into my list of exceptions. C’mon, Caleb.” Beau grabs his hand again, squeezing it firmly.

“How can I face them after that?” he whispers, ragged, holding her hand like a life line. _I can barely face you. _“They know now, everyone knows. I – I nearly got them all killed. All of _you. _You all nearly got _tortured _because of me.”

The hard of edges on Beau’s features soften. “Look, it got bad. But we knew the risks, we know what it means to be in this group – we’re the _Nein_, okay, it’s basically us against everyone else. And as if we would throw you at them willingly? No fucking way.”

Caleb’s throat burns. “You – you are insane, Beauregard,” he chokes.

Beau shrugs, cocks her head aside in a defiant manner as if to say ‘challenge accepted’.

“You know what, I’m okay with it,” she drawls, but there’s almost a gentle glint in her eyes. “Look, I get if you need some time for yourself. That’s okay, man. To take a breather, whatever. But at least – at least come back at _some _point, okay?”

Caleb’s walls take a final brutal hit and they shatter.

He slumps back on his seat, limp and powerless.

He stares at her, this amazing woman who has been his side for so long, who has stood up for him, who has fought with him and for him, who has defended him and who is crude and awkward and protective.

“They love you, dumbass,” she continues, her voice rougher, a hint of despair bleeding in. _I love you. _“They’re worried you’re gonna do something stupid.”

He barks out a hysterical laugh. “_Ja, _ I – that is very likely _.”_

“Don’t even joke about it. Caleb, _seriously. _Don’t do anything fucked up and stupid that’ll get you killed. Just _don’t.” _

Her voice doesn’t quite crack, but it’s horrifyingly close.

They stare at each other, the hurt and exhaustion setting their teeth on the edge. Caleb is so tired, to his bones and to his very soul. He’s so _tired. _

He lets his head drop, and her grip tightens for a fraction.

“Don’t run away from us,” Beau grunts, her thumb digging into his palm.

He misses them. With every fiber of his being. There is no use in lying about it. Longing is gnawing at him, it haunts his dreams and sometimes he thinks he can hear the ghost-like voices of Jester’s giggles, Nott’s sarcastic remarks, the deep baritone of Caduceus, and -

\- _Fjord._

He shudders.

_No, don’t think that._

“Just - “ His voice cracks. “Just give me a week.”

She frowns, obviously a little surprised that he’s given her a detail. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Ah, nothing stupid.”

“_Liar.” _

“Unfortunately. But…but not about this, either. This is not permanent.”

Beau tenses and panic flashes on her features. “You better not come back in a goddamn coffin, Caleb.”

“I will try not to.” He leans in and presses his lips gently on her temple. It’s a tender, platonic touch, and with a shudder she bumps her head into it. “You do not have to worry about me.”

“Tough shit, asshole, I’m doing it anyway,” she says, choked. “I’ll kick your ass if this is a goddamn goodbye.”

“It is not.”

“I’ll hold on to that, Caleb.”

For a moment, her fingers grasp at his coat, keep him in place as if she’s holding her own breath, and he realizes with a sickening tremor that she’s _terrified. _

Terrified of leaving him here, terrified that this is the last time she’ll see him alive, just _terrified for him. _

“Beauregard,” he murmurs softly, his whole chest aching, desperate to ease her pain in any way possible but he has no idea how to do that.

“Shut up.”

So he shuts up and just holds her.

(she lets him.)

Or maybe it’s her who is holding him.

(he lets her.)

+

_Don’t come back in a goddamn coffin. _

+

He bids Beau goodbye, and she stands frozen in the courtyard of his little cottage, her jaw painfully clenched, and all the blood has drained from her knuckles as she grips the staff.

_Don’t come back in a goddamn coffin. _

“I’ll see you later, Caleb,” she grunts gruffly. “Send word if you need help. I fucking mean it, Widogast, I better see a cat or even a damn octopus, I don’t care, _something_.”

Caleb offers her a faint smile, hoping it will help. “Understood.”

“Good. And for gods’ sake, eat something, will ya.”

She shoves him pocket bacon.

“Go already, Beauregard.”

“Fuck you, don’t tell me what to do, I’ll go whenever I want, shut up.” She gives him a hard glare, and it wavers, just slightly. “See you later?”

(her breathing doesn’t quite hitch. it’s a close thing.)

“Absolutely,” he whispers and he means it as a promise he’s just as frantic to keep. “See you later.”

Beau observes him for a long moment, her lips pressed into a tight, trembling line. Then she nods, gives him a mock-salute and makes her way down the hill.

At the end, she pauses to glance over her shoulder, and that bleak despair flickers again her face, one more time before she’s disappeared from sight.

_Don’t come back in a coffin._

Caleb’s heart feels heavy in his chest.

+

He really has no room to make a promise like that.

+


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Beau tries her best, and being human is hard.

Caleb is a coward.

He knows this. It sticks to his skin like oil, clammy and slimy. He can’t get rid of it, he wants to scrub and claw it loose, but he makes no attempt, because he deserves every bit of it to feel miserable.

It was his fault, after all. He got complacent, he got  _comfortable. _ He closed his eyes to the danger of the Assemly, to  _Ikithon _ and his influence and thus endangered his friends,  _his family. _

Ice-cold shudder grips him.

It haunts him, digs him deeper into darkness when his thoughts slip closer towards it.

_(he’s got so many ghosts, might as well add this to the heaviest.) _

Ikithon isn’t in a habit of leaving behind resources.

_Weapons. _

_I just need a week, _ Caleb thinks, letting out a slow exhale. It doesn’t really work on his frayed nerves.  _A week and then - _

He falters.

_We miss you, okay? _

He misses them, too. Desperately.

_I will see you again - if… if I’m still alive after all this. _

He closes his eyes and fastens the leather straps on his books. The weight of them feels grounding, almost comforting. Exhaling again, he empties a small glass – the whiskey burns through his chest into his limbs.

He sets the glass down, dumps water on the fireplace and the cottage darkens.

_Time to go. _

+

Beau is ready to hit something.

Preferably so hard it’ll make her forget the painful vacuum currently residing behind her ribs. The ice-cold autumn rain drums against her hood, streams down the fabric. Her boots give into the sludge that the road’s turned into.

Still, she can’t get it out of her head.

The image of Caleb’s face, thin and pale and  _tired. _

He looks so tired, so haggard.

_You fucking stupid asshole, _ she thinks furiously, gnashing her teeth together, just grind  and  grind to forget how her eyes are burning, how tight her throat feels. 

_Just be safe, _ she thinks and wipes her eyes.  _Just be fuckin’ safe, that’s all I ask._

She can’t turn him away from this stupid path he’s chosen, she can’t drag him back, she can’t -

_but she should’ve_

Beau grits her teeth. Her vision is blurred. Her nails dig into her palms.

_should’ve knocked his ass out and dragged him back home. _

She pulls the hood better on.

Yeah, she hates crying.

But no one’s looking at her in the rain.

_You should’ve dragged him home._

+

It gets worse.

_He’s a shifty asshole, he’s gonna do something stupid. _

Beau’s head is buzzing, each thought wrenching more anxiety, worry and pure fear out until it’s all cluttered and dark, and she can’t think of anything else.

The helpless despair look in his sunken hazy eyes, and it makes her shudder.

It’s a look he hasn’t worn in a long time, but now it’s like he’s drowning, and Beau isn’t good at this shit, she doesn’t know how to fish him out without him never forgiving her for interfering whatever the hell he’s trying to do -

‘_Cause he’s gonna do something stupid. _

Beau stops in the middle of the road. Her lungs squeeze together, she can’t breathe, cold-hot adrenaline surges into her brain,  _he’s gonna do something stupid - !_

_I can’t leave him. I shouldn’t have -_

He asked for a week.  _He asked for a fucking week. _

_Fuck. _

Snarling to herself, she buries her fingers into her hair. “Shit - you’re gonna be the goddamn death of me.”

She forces herself not to turn around.

It is one of the hardest things she’s had to do.

_I trust you. You better not prove me fucking wrong, Caleb. _

+

Beau arrives to the camp.

It took some serious navigating where she ended half-lost for half an hour before she found familiar crossbow bolts stuck in a nearby tree.  _Huh, nice shot, Nott._

She sees Caduceus first, his tall frame leaning towards the fire. He’s got fireflies stuck in his long hair, and they create a dreamy glow on the pink colour of the strands.

“Beau!” 

Jester spots  _her _ first, and she drops her notebook, rushes to her and pulls her into a tight hug.

“Welcome back! Did you get all the super secret cool monk secrets? Was it like spying or interrogation oooor like totally important studying times with Dairon?” 

Oh, yeah.  Beau’s stomach clenches. ‘Cause that’s what  she ’s told them.  Shit, she really hates lying to  Jester . 

_Fuck you, Caleb, how can you even lie to Jester? _

“Yeah, something like that,” she grunts instead and distracts herself by tucking a wet strand of hair behind Jester’s ear. “Kinda sucked, wasn’t all that into it, to be honest. She knows how to make you feel stupid.” 

She can feel Caduceus’s heavy gaze settling on her, considering and calm, and somehow that’s even worse. 

“Aww, why? ‘Cause you’re so smart, Beau, you know so much stuff! Okay, but come eat, okay, bet you didn’t eat, we got some reaally good stew here! I cut the carrots!” 

“They were really nice carrots,” Caduceus agrees and offers a kind smile to Beau. “Welcome back.” 

_I’m the fucking worst. _

“Yeah,” she manages to grunt, “thanks. Good to see you all. Hey, where’s Fjord?” 

Jester’s face falls, and a shadow falls between her furrowed brows. “He – um, I don’t know. I’m not sure. He was looking at the maps with Nott?”

“Again,” Caduceus adds mildly and stirs the stew. 

“They’re like, reeally into it, but I dunno what it helps, not really, it’s just a map and it’s not like they know where Cay-leb is now,” Jester mutters, shifting her weight to the other leg, her shoulders drawn tense. 

Beau doesn’t know what to say. She just opens her mouth helplessly. Thankfully she’s saved from answering when Caduceus hands her a bowl of stew. “There, eat. You look cold.”

“I am fuckin’ cold, I hate the rain, I hate the roads, and I hate the damn mud,” she says, taking a seat beside him. Jester picks up her notebook, shakes it a bit and sits next to Beau. 

She’s tense, these days. Not that Beau can blame her.

There’s more often a somber dull look in Jester’s eyes, more worried lines around her mouth, and it makes Beau  _ache. _

“Beau?” 

It’s a soft, small noise.

“Yeah, Jess?” 

Jester drums her fingers against the notebook.

“Do you think – do you think we’ll ever find him?” she asks uncertainly. “What – what if we never do? What if he doesn’t want us to find him? What if we’ll never see him again? He’s not responding to any of my messages, he’s getting them, though, I know he has to get them! What if he _hates _us now?”

Beau’s heart breaks.

_Oh, Jester, _ she thinks, staring at her with quiet devastation.  They are really bad at holding it all in, aren’t they.  Her mouth dry, she shakes her head. 

She can’t make them think that Caleb hates them, fuck everything else, but she just  _can’t._

“Nah. Like, no way. He loves us way too much, this is just his fucked up way of sparing us from all the danger and trouble.” Beau pinches gently Jester’s nose. “He fuckin’ adores you, you know.” 

Jester gives a tired giggle. “He does  _nooot! _ That’s so silly,  _you’re _ so silly, he does  _not _ \- “ She pauses. “Although I am pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, you are.” 

Jester’s cheeks turn pink, and bashfully she lowers her head. “Well, I think you’re pretty awesome, too, Beau.”

“Thanks, Jess. You okay?” 

Jester angles her head up again to meet Beau’s eyes. Her lashes flutter just slightly and brush against the freckles on her cheekbones. “I’m okay,” she says softly.

“You sure?” 

“Yep. I’m totally fine, Beau, really. I _am. _I healed, I’m a super good healer now, so there, all fixed and cool.” 

Beau’s hand trembles as she pats Jester’s shoulder as tenderly as she can. “Okay,” she says instead.

“Wanna see my awesome new drawing of Cay-leb? He’s wearing my dress.” 

“Yeah, show me.” A beat. “Damn. He looks good in that.” 

“_Right? _He should totally wear them.”

After browsing through the rest of Jester’s flawless art, she hands the book back to Jester, who pecks a light kiss on the top of Beau’s hair, winks and goes towards Nott, leaving Caduceus and Beau alone.

(the bruises on jester’s neck are fading now. gods, caleb would hate himself even more if he saw them.)

(ikithon is an asshole, and gods beau hates him so much.)

+

It doesn’t come as a surprise to Beau when Fjord finds her half an hour later.

_Good fuckin’ gods these losers, _ is the first thought popping in her head,  _they are the same, _ and she hates that, too. 

Fjord looks wild and hollowed out. His lips are drawn into a tight grimace, the tips of his tusks poking out. The scar on his lip has stretched into a white line, making him look older. Worn. The angry red wound on his clavicle has healed into a tender pink spot.

Fjord blinks a few times at Beau as if to make sure she’s actually there, and she just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nice to see you, too, man,” she greets him.

“Hi. Uh, sorry. For – not coming to see you.” 

“Don’t need that, s’cool or whatever. What’ve you been doing?”

Fjord’s eyes darken and he looks again tired, as if he’s balancing between hopelessness and defiance, as if he has to justify his desire to find Caleb to  _Beau. _

Justify his actions to  _her. _

_So stupid._

“We’ve tracked him a bit, narrowed his path down. Just a bit, mind you, but… it’s something quite likely, at least.”

“Yeah? Where?” 

“I figured he might try for Rexxentrum. Back to Cerberus Assembly.” 

Her stomach sinks. _Shit. Cerberus Assembly._

“So direct approach, huh?” she forces herself to say. 

“That’s – yes, basically that, yeah. Might be worth a note.” 

Beau suddenly feels ancient compared to the rest of them. She drags her hand on her face with a weary sigh.  _You’re so not subtle, Caleb, they’re reading you like a goddamn book. _

“And why are you thinking he’ll go there? Last we checked, he was pretty damn reluctant to go anywhere near the place, just sayin’.” 

She has an idea why, after all but it might be different from what Fjord’s thinking and she’s suddenly scared of the answer. Scared that she might’ve gotten this wrong, scared that she might’ve accidentally lied to Caleb about  _this._

And this is too important to be lied about or toyed with,  not when there are Caleb’s feelings riding on it . 

The amber colour in Fjord’s eyes harden, grows sharp like dirty glass bottle.

He says nothing.

It says  _everything_ . 

And Beau’s hackles rise as she says, through gritted teeth: “Okay.”

Just okay.

She has to be okay but she isn’t because nothing  _is _ okay, everything is unravelling around her, she’s lying to everyone, she’s fighting with blood in her mouth and ready to fight with claws to drag her friends to safety, and she  _can’t do any of that._

Fjord scowls. “Aren’t you worried? He walked out, he left the group.”

In retrospect, maybe that’s what cuts the last thread in her lies.

_Last thread that cuts her loose._

Maybe it’s the stress, the fear, maybe it’s Fjord’s tone or the way he says it, maybe it’s all of this finally catching up with her.

Because that’s the big question, isn’t it, and she can’t deny it, because that’s exactly what happened.

_He left and we’re here and I’m so fucking worried about him and I can’t stop this from happening, I can’t stop him from planning his own goddamn death, I can’t stop lying, I can’t HELP ANYONE - ! _

I t strikes a wrong chord in her. So all that rotting mess tears out of her in the worst possible way.

“Hold on, are you blaming him?” she snarls, that last thread holding her control and nerves together finally giving out. “I know he walked out, I damn well know he did! That was his fucking choice, he did that because of what the hell happened back there and I don’t wanna – you know what, fuck this, what about you? What’s your deal, huh? After Yasha, after Ikithon, is this like wanting payback or what? You ready to turn your back on him, too, callin’ him evil or some shit like that?” 

Fjord’s eyebrows shoot up, and he’s taken aback, startled for a split second.

“_What? _I’m not going to - “ 

“That happened! Back then with Yasha! So fuck you if you try to pull some turn-coat shit on Caleb, he didn’t know shit about Ikithon showing up – he spent all that fucking time trying to get away from them - !“ 

“Wha - I’m not going to do any of that – I’m not blaming him! What is going _on _right now _\- ?” _

“Nothing’s going on – fuck you!” 

Fjord makes a low, almost wounded noise in the back of his throat and he recoils back from her. He stares at her, his expression pulling back behind a neutral, emotionless mask.

_Shit. _

“I am _not _going to turn my back on him,” he says finally, his voice dropped an octave lower, into a deep baritone. “I – may not understand everything and he might be way over his head – but I want him to come back home, to _us. _I want to help him._”_

_Shit shit shit. _

“And what if he’s really gone for Rexxentrum, to being a lap dog for the Empire, what then?” 

_I gotta know – how far are you willing to go, man - _

“Do you honestly think that?” 

“Just answer the damn question.” 

The muscles in Fjord’s throat tighten visibly. “Even if he – hypothetically – betrayed us, yes.”

“No swords on his fucking throat?” 

He stares at her, unblinking, tense in his skin, unmoving. “No swords,” he grunts.

_Well, might as well have a fucking shovel-talk if nothin’ else, shit. _

“Fine.” She buries her hand into her loose hair and grimaces. _Looks like you’re not getting your week, Caleb. _“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

_They’re coming after you. It’s happening so fuck your plans, I guess._

He eyes her, hesitant. “Are you – how are you doing?”

“Peachy.” 

It’s a lie, and they both know it because neither of them really is okay.

_I’m just – _

Awkward silence hangs between them, but Beau is too scrubbed bare to care about niceties and pleasantries. Fjord seems to feel the same because he clears his throat again and nods toward the maps.

“I’m – going to smooth out some of the - “ 

“Yeah – yeah, go ahead, that’s cool. Like super cool, do that.” 

Beau hears him leave, and she’s overwhelmed by the unbearable need to cry. It makes her feel angry and humiliated, makes her want to hit something -

“You found him, didn’t you.” 

To her credit, Beau doesn’t choke on her own saliva, but dread sinks into the pit of her stomach.

“_What?”_

Caduceus has apparently been walking around the camp gathering firewood, at a respectable distance but now he’s nearby, his expression is still serene, still kind. He smiles and it’s the most gentle thing Beau has ever witnessed.

“You found him, Mr. Caleb, I mean,” Caduceus states, his voice a quiet rumble and bows down to pick up a daisy by his ankle and hands it to her. “How was he? Was he all right?” 

Beau stares at him, mute and  _helpless. _

(should’ve remembered you can’t lie to caduceus, too late now, he knows)

She can’t – she can’t do this now.

(she remembers caleb, too, his sunken eyes, the desperate look of a drowning man.)

“Ya,” she manages to get out. “Well, no. Shit, not at all. I mean, he’s still wallowing and – okay, you know what, no. I’m so fucking worried about him, Caddy. He’s – he’s got plans and I dunno what the fuck he’s gonna do now.”

“He still doesn’t want to come back?” 

“...I tried, Cad. But to be fair, I think he probably wants, he wants it so fucking badly but he’s got this bullshit sense of duty, ‘cause the Empire fucked us over.” She stares at her feet, feeling queasy and empty. “Now he’s probably really going to Rexxentrum, I don’t know. Fuck, I - I really should’ve knocked him out and dragged him here. Or at least – I don’t know, fuckin’ stayed there with him.” 

_So he wouldn’t be so alone. _

Her vision clouds again, hot and blurry. She’s so tired.

“Why didn’t I go back?” she asks hoarsely. “It wasn’t that fucking far, why didn’t I just stay with him?” 

Caduceus’s large soft hand settles on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Because you trust him,” he murmurs. “Because I think he asked you to, didn’t he? He’s like that sort who asks. And because you care.”

“...shut up.” 

“You do. It’s not a bad thing, it really isn’t, but I know it hurts now.” 

It finally breaks Beau’s spine.

“I keep – I just keep _lying,” _she chokes. It stumbles out of her mouth. “To Jester. To _everyone. _This situation sucks, Cad, I _hate _this. I hate everything about this. I just want him to be fucking okay.” 

“I know.” Caduceus moves, wraps his arm around her shoulders and rests his chin on the top of her head. She closes her eyes, and accepts the embrace. He smells like the forest, like the rain and herbs. It’s nice_._ It feels safe. “You are a very good friend.” 

“Doesn’t fuckin’ feel like it,” Beau rasps into his shirt. This whole mess has proven how shitty she can be.

“You _are. _I think we are – we _all – _are very lucky to be friends with you. Yeah, that’s what I think. And… it’s not really fair to you, to carry all our burdens and worries and secrets all the time so... if you ever feel the need to – I’m not sure, to vent? To air all that out, to give your burdens a rest, even for a little bit – then I’m here. I’ll listen. No matter what it is.” 

Beau’s throat doesn’t work properly, and she’s overwhelmed, feelings cluttering and bumping into each other behind her ribs, but most of all, she’s dizzyingly  _grateful. _

“...thanks, Caduceus.” 

She means that. She _means _that with every molecule in her body.

Caduceus grins.

“Oh, you’re welcome, I love to listen, talking about stuff is good.” He pats the crown of her head so impossibly gently. “We’ll find him. And then we’ll help him the best we can. It’ll be all right.” 

And Beau – gods damn her, Beau believes him.

+

It’s a day later when they all hear it.

A dry wheezing sound, broken on bloody lips, echoing in their ears across the camp. It pierces through, so sharp and loud that Nott drops her chemist’s kit on the ground.

It should be impossible to resonate so loudly, to everybody but there it is, Caleb Widogast’s voice:

“_I – I’m afraid I have made a huge mistake, my friends.” _A hitch. “_Beauregard. You were right. In every way. I should have listened. I am so sorry.”_

Colour drains from Beau’s face.

_No. _ This isn’t happening.

They hear him draw another uneven breath inside. Another hiss of magic.

“_You are all dear to me. So very dear. Please be safe. Do not search for me.” _

Then,

“_Goodbye.”_

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was totally kicking my ass - also known as the chapter where I'm practising writing conflict.  
Didn't mean to write the whole thing from Beau's pov but here we are and I love her and I adore the Empire kids' dynamic so much. Hope I did them justice.  
Anyway, sorry for taking long, real life insists eating all my time and energy. One more chapter to go! (that's my plan anyway, in the worst case scenario might be four but we'll see!) ALSO I've read all of your comments, you people are amazing and so so kind. Thank you for reading the chapter, it means a lot!! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Mighty Nein track Caleb down.

It’s chaos.

The little peace they may have had after Caleb first left, disappears in a sickening flash, leaving behind  only brutal panic, fear, worry.

_It’s chaos. _

Nott screeches: “ _NO! CALEB!” _ She fumbles with her copper wire and screams: “Where are you?  _Where are you? ANSWER THIS MESSAGE!” _

Nothing.

Beau’s heart thunders in her ears.

Everything else is strangely muted.

_You fucking asshole, how could you, _ she thinks, slow devastation filling the cracks.  _How could you call and tell us that. _

_No way are we doing that. _ No way. There’s no plausible way in this fucked up world that Beau isn’t going to go after this stubborn asshole of a wizard - 

“ \- e gotta find him, we leave _right now - !” _

“ \- et’s just calm down – Nott - “ 

“_THE FUCK I’LL CALM DOWN! DON’T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” _

“ _\- _e sounded bad, so bad, you guys heard that, too, right - “ 

Everyone’s talking – high and panicked - except Fjord. Beau blinks. Fjord’s  _quiet. _

He’s staring forward at the fire, his fingers are clenched into fists as if he’s barely holding onto the last remains of any calm he might have. Beau’s not sure if he’s even breathing.

The muscles and sinews on Fjord’s neck are tight and tensed.

“What’re you thinking, man?” Beau asks, her voice low and hoarse. A part of her marvels how she can produce any sane words at all when she feels so fucking empty and helpless_. _

Fjord’s throat works, and it looks difficult for him.

“That was a goodbye,” he grunts, and he sounds _raw. _Beau’s whole chest grows cold, hollow. “That was a goddamn _goodbye.” _

It was. It was _, _ there’s no denying it, even though every instinct in Beau screams at her to viciously argue against it. 

“...yeah,” she forces herself to say admit, and fuck it, _how could you, how can __**SHE **__just stand there and say it when Caleb - _

Fjord closes his eyes. A violent tremor goes through his body, and he breathes harshly through his nose. A beat passes, and then it gets worse.

“What did he mean?” Fjord asks, his voice a barbed growl, but not _furious. _(maybe it would’ve been better if he was furious)

He just sounds –  _hopeless. _

Beau’s neck stiffens. She doesn’t answer, can’t bring herself to answer. 

“You knew where he was.” 

Beau doesn’t deny it. It’s over. She knows it. Nowhere to run now. The lies have caught up with her and she’s cornered. The remains of her world takes another blow, another crack in the walls, and everything is finally crumbling to ash.

“Yeah,” she admits, whispering. “I did.” 

“All this time – you knew where he was – you _knew_ \- “ 

Fjord trails off, his voice getting more haggard with each passing word, his breathing catching in his throat. She still doesn’t say anything worth a damn.

Distantly she wonders if she should, if she should lean on anger and let it overtake her, let it scream out for her. She did that once but now...

Now she can’t. Not when Fjord’s features darken by something like  _agony. _

He stares at her. “How fucking  _could _ you?” 

Ice gathers in Beau’s veins.

_How could you? _

It sounds weird, coming from Fjord, with his polished, refined accent, sounds weird when it’s all that’s been echoing in Beau’s skull for  _days _ now. 

How could you?

_Yeah, s’exactly what I was thinking, pal. _

Beau’s tired. She’s old and worn and so, so  _tired. _ Tired of this, tired of feelings and loving this family of theirs so much it makes her bleed. 

“’Cause he begged me to,” she finally manages to get out. “’Cause I found him, ‘cause he’s Caleb, ‘cause _he _fucking asked me to. It wasn’t easy – shit, lying to everyone is like the shittiest thing I’ve done so far, but you didn’t look him in the fucking eye, Fjord and hear him beg. I did, so yeah, I lied. And now I’m paying the full fucking price for it.” 

_For his sake._

_And he’s gone. _

“I tried, okay. Don’t think I didn’t try to persuade him to get him back, I fuckin’ _tried. _Motherfucker is so stubborn, you know he is. And that’s not what – look, I’m not sayin’ I’m like, _innocent, _no way, but man, Fjord… I tried. It obviously wasn’t enough but… I tried.” 

For a split second Fjord looks like he might snarl at her, but then he closes his eyes, tilts his head back and just looks like he’s having trouble breathing.

“Whatever, we - we have to find him,” he rasps after a pause, opens his eyes and Beau swallows. That’s despair, she thinks numbly, _that’s despair staring right back at her, raw and haunting. _Has it always been so obvious?

_Don’t come back in a goddamn coffin. _

_(it wasn’t a fucking challenge, asshole, _ _ **I** _ _ was begging too - ) _

Beau eases her fingers from a fist, her nails pulling back from her palms. “Yeah,” she hears herself answer.

+

Beau thought she could handle Fjord’s hurt.

Nothing prepared her for  _Jester’s _ hurt. It’s a brutal stab into her heart, as Jester stares at her with tight lips, all angry angles, wet eyes and  _hurt hurt hurt. _

“You knew where he was?” she asks, her accent thicker and cracking. “All this time? And there was no Dairon, at all?” 

Beau feels like breaking apart. She can’t handle this. But she can handle Jester’s pain even less.

“Yeah. No, it was – it was a shitty cover-up, and I’m so fucking sorry, that was – but I _couldn’t, _I found him and he was – he wasn’t fine, at all, I couldn’t just let him go! I found him, and I lied and I’m so _sorry, Jester - “ _

Her voice nearly breaks into a hoarse hitch of breath, a sob but not quite _,_ everything is too much and overwhelming, and they are so messy,  _Caleb we really fucked up. _

Jester stares at her, so silent, so still, and every second digs into Beau’s skin, and fear,  _that goddamn horror and fear that she’s fucked up everything, she’s ruined everything, Jess hates her now - ! _

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jester asks with a small voice. “Didn’t you trust me?” 

“I do,” Beau gasps immediately. “I do, I fucking trust you with all of me, Jess, okay, there’s no else I – but shit, I – _fuck, _I didn’t know what to do, he asked me and he was already hurting so fucking much, I just wanted to ease it all any way I could!” 

Her chest jerks, horror and urgency crush her ribs together, she just desperately wants Jester to understand – not even forgive her, Beau can totally understand if she doesn’t, but at least understand why she’s an asshole.

_At least this once. _

So she chokes out: “I’m sorry, Jess. I’m so fucking sorry.”

And she means every word, so sincere she might bleed to the death with it.

Jester’s expression crumbles, and with a cry, she throws her arms around Beau’s neck. She smells of cinnamon and old perfume, flowers and purely like Jester, and Beau nearly collapses into her strong arms, barely believing this is happening.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Beau, I know, I know, that must’ve been so hard - “ 

“ \- could’ve handled it so much fucking better but I didn’t, I panicked, it wasn’t right but I did that anyway - “ 

“ _\- _it’s okay, Beau, we can find him, right, we can do that now - “ 

Beau holds Jester like she’s on the brink of fading away.

The relief nearly overwhelms her. Thank the gods. She doesn’t deserve a damn thing but she’s a greedy bastard so she’ll take whatever she’s allowed to.

Whatever Jester allows her to.

+

Later, she catches a glimpse of Fjord and Nott sitting by the fire together. Both of them are quiet, staring at the flames, eyes gleaming in the light. Neither of them says a word to each other, but she gets the sense of companionship between them. 

Drawn together by the common loss, common grief.

+

She doesn’t pry.

+

The next day Fjord still is terrifyingly quiet but Nott is bustling with energy to get the camp moving, damn the consequences. 

+

They leave for Rexxentrum.

+

Rexxentrum is wet and cold. Rain whips the city, shrouds the buildings in dark haze.

It’s laborous to breathe, the damp air’s almost solid in their lungs, and they decide rather unanimously that they all hate it, no matter how impressive, colourful and  _vast _ it all is, with several towers and chimneys casting shadows on the streets below. 

Nott is the first one to talk, hesitant and tense. “Has anyone been here before? Any idea where we might find him?”

It’s a strangely practical question considering their current problem. Caleb’s absence is still a hole in their group, something that they all both ignore and are painfully aware in the same time.

“He’s tangling with some pretty dangerous fuckin’ people, though,” Beau drawls. “S’a pretty big faction. Gotta plan this.” 

“What if they torture him?” Nott asks anxiously. “He’s been on the run for so long, for a good reason, what if they - “ 

She can’t say it, and her big, yellow eyes fill with tears. Caduceus lowers to rest his big hand on her shoulder and murmurs:

“I don’t think they’d damage him. Think they might… want him to be in tact for… for whatever they need him for.” 

Nott starts to tremble. “What if they  do worse than that ?” she asks with a fragile voice and Beau’s stomach drops. “He got away from all of that, he  _got away – _ what if they tear that all down and make him believe that again?” 

Beau has no answer that, but thinking that chills her to the bone.

_No, you’d better fucking not, _ she thinks.  _Seriously, you’ve come so far, Caleb, don’t you fucking dare to step back from that now, asshole. _

“Then we’re gonna snap him back out of it, make him remember who the fuck he is,” she grunts, desperately needing herself to believe that. 

Nott’s small face is so very pale and frightened.  _‘What if it’s not enough?’ _ shines from her, bare and real, and Beau doesn’t want to answer that. 

Doesn’t want to think about it, there’s not enough of her heart left in tact to deal with that  _now. _

But… she’ll try.

She’ll try until her hands bleed, until she’s bled dry, she’ll try to save him to her last breath.

+

_You better watch yourself, Caleb, we’re saving your ass whether you like or not. _

_+_

Beau is relieved that they have a clear object in mind – they’re concentrated on finding Caleb and wherever the hell he is at the moment.

But when they wade deeper into Rexxentrum, they become aware of the  _restlessness _ that’s filling the streets. Nervous whispers, quick glances, hoods pulled deeper, hurried steps on the cobblestones. 

Beau becomes even more uneasy to notice a crowd gathering around a large campus, with tall towers. With a sick jolt, they realize it’s the Soltryce Academy.

_The hive. _

_Where everything began. _

“Something’s wrong here,” Caduceus murmurs, peering over everybody’s heads. 

“Feels like someone’s dying day,” Nott says, biting the edge of her flask. “Like someone’s about to get hanged.” 

(she shudders, looks away, her fingers tapping on the flask,  _tap-tap, _ but doesn’t take a drink)

They allow themselves to be swept to the Academy’s front yard, worried and restless.

Suddenly Jester murmurs: “Look.  _Look. _ I – is that him? _”_

Her voice is so small.  _Breaking. _

Silence.

They turn toward her, bewildered, unsure if they just heard her right. Jester clutches her hands together against her collarbone, her eyes wide and  _h_ _orrified. _

“What?” 

“Look there,” Jester whimpers, now tears welling as she looks up, _up - _

_\- they follow her gaze up to a large balcony above the Academy’s oak doors -_

and it’s Trent Ikithon. Just a mortal man, just a person wearing the robes. What a fucking bizarre thought, thinks Beau. Ancient, gaunt,  _smug_ , and with him, stands a line of people and with them is - 

_Caleb. _

Her heart stops.

_It’s him. _

It’s Caleb in expensive Cerberus robes, resembling more like an uniform, his face schooled in a cold, expressionless mask, carved in marble. 

_Caleb - ? _

It looks so strange, so alien on his face that it punches all the air out of Beau’s lungs. Her chest feels like it’s cracking open.

_No, no, no - _

_(is that your old mask, asshole?)_

_(did you look like that before?)_

“Caduceus?” Jester sounds so young. “Is – is it him? Really really him?” 

_Please, _ Beau finds herself begging, not really knowing what answer she actually wants to hear. 

Caduceus observes Caleb, rain dripping from his goatee. A moment passes by. A shadow falls on Caduceus’s brows, and his grip on the staff tightens.

“It’s him,” he says heavily. “Or someone really, really good at masquerading as him but I doubt it. It hasn’t been enough time to be that good a him.” 

Beau squeezes her eyes shut and now, she’s on the verge of utter breakdown. This is the worst outcome she could’ve expected.

_Don’t do this, _ she begs, despair now drowning her completely. It’s worse and she’s not prepared for any of it.  _Please don’t do this, please don’t be up there and do this bullshit - ! _

_(you’ve gotten so far without them - !) _

In the midst of all that, she nearly forgets Fjord.

Fjord is quiet again. He stares at Caleb with glassy, distant eyes, his lips parted, his breathing shallow. Rain drops stream from his brow, across his scars.

Without looking, Nott reaches for Fjord and grips his hand in silence. He grips back with white knuckles.

But Beau -

Beau just stares at Caleb, and for a moment – for a split second, she thinks the sky reflects blind blue on his gaze, but then it’s gone and she’s less sure.

_She’s not sure of a goddamn thing. _

She’s wrong-footed on an uneven ground, she doesn’t know what to do,  _fuck, she doesn’t know what the hell to do - ! _

_(she just wants to drag him away from there)_

“We need to move,” Caduceus murmurs. “This isn’t good.” 

“No – no, we gotta hear what the hell they’re doing - “ Nott argues, sounding thick, sniffling. 

Before anyone can get a word edgewise, Ikithon speaks, apparently having been on his speech for a while now, and his voice booms across the yard, a deep, majestic baritone that somehow seems to reach the very corners of the campus: 

“ \- _peace! _That is what we strive for – for what his Imperial Majesty strives for. It is a noble goal to reach, and precious and fragile to keep. To remember in the time of hatred and violence! _Passion, my __friends__!_ And for his Imperial Majesty’s sake, our talented stars of the Academy return to help with that goal. In silence and in loyalty!”

In the row, Caleb twitches as he and some of his colleagues step forward, heads held high, and most of the crowd explodes into cheers and whistles.

It’s a chant, _in silence in loyalty. In vigilance. _

Beau thinks she might throw up. It’s almost gaudy, to be in the middle of that. To witness that.

The rest of Ikithon’s speech buzzes in her ears.  _He returned to the ranks? _ _They’re sending Caleb off somewhere? _ Her gut twists. Nothing about this hellhole is good but that…. that’s no honor,  no privilege to be sen t anywhere near  the  frontlines. 

Then she realizes the Nein are nudging each other out of the crowd. She’s dizzy, she’s about to throw up, everything is sharp and too  _much. _ Caduceus grabs her shoulder  as he herds them towards the street. 

H is touch is comforting and grounding. 

Somehow they manage to scramble away from the crowd, stunned and feeling detached. 

No one says anything. 

Caduceus regards them quietly, clears his throat and says: “I suggest we pull back. He’s alive,  as far we’ve seen, and unharmed. We have the luxury of… biding our time now.” 

Beau has to admit he has a point, although she struggles to agree. Everything in her just screams to  get Caleb and drag him away, Academy,  the Assembly and politics be damned. After everything –  _after everything, _ she just wants him safe. 

_ Old mask on or off.  _

Damn h er goddamn fucking weak heart. 

_ (she hates that she cares but she loves him more than she hates and that’s fucking something, ain’t it) _

Suddenly a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around her, and Jester nestles into Beau’s neck, shaking all over. Blindly Beau grasps Jester’s arm and draws in a deep, shaky breath. It feels too much. Too brittle, too fragile to breathe around it all.

”It’s gonna be okay,” Jester murmurs into Beau’s skin. She feels like the only thing holding Beau upright. ”It’s gonna be so okay, Beau.”

Hot, wet sensation burns Beau’s throat. ”Okay.”

Just okay. It has to be okay, she has to be okay. Repeat it. Again. Again. _As many times as it takes._

_Pull yourself together. We’re saving his fucking ass whether he wants or not, because tough shit otherwise. _She straightens herself but Jester holds on tighter.

”Think you’re able to send him a message now, Jess?”

Jester doesn’t startle but she angles her head. ”I can try,” she says slowly. ”It might work now. Ooor he might not get it ’cause this place is soooo weird, they probably got soo many wards and stuff – do you think that’s how they roll?”

”Wouldn’t surprise me. Bunch of paranoid freaks. How ’bout we try?”

”I can do that!” Jester pauses and hesitantly glances at Beau. ”What do you want me to say?”

Beau’s throat burns again. ”What, you want me to tell you?” she asks hoarsely.

Jester hums, and there’s so unbearable softness, _tenderness _in her eyes when she looks at Beau that her chest nearly caves in.

”Yeah,” Jester murmurs. ”I do. And… and I think he would, too.”

For a moment Beau has to squeeze her eyes shut, has to pinch the bridge of her nose, just to take this moment to herself.

”Caleb,” she rasps, and she hears Jester echo it tentatively as if trying ice beneath her foot. ”We saw you. You’re not getting rid of us that easily. We’re saving you. Don’t you fucking dare to do this, not now.”

The Nein stare at her.

Jester murmurs: ”… Beau.”

Silence.

No answer. Figures. She knew that.

Beau opens her eyes. Twenty-five words aren’t enough.

”I don’t care what it takes,” she starts with a low, fierce voice. Her nails dig into her palms. ”I don’t care what bullshit he tells us that we’re wrong and this is what he _wants – _but I’m saving him. I’m _saving _him and I’ll kill Ikithon given the fucking chance. The Assembly better watch out ’cause I’m burning all of it _down.” _

_For him. _

+

They find a small, modest tavern nearby the campus. For that reason it’s more expensive than what they’re used to, but they need to stick close.

The atmosphere is grim, tense – their faces are pallid, gray, _tense. _

They have waited in worse places but this… this digs into their skins differently. This is different sort of suffering.

They have no plan, and Beau is more than painfully aware of this, but what else can they do? Soltryce Academy is a different beast, Rexxentrum a different cesspool.

She knows they have to tread carefully, for Caleb’s sake, but…

_but how? how to proceed? _

And under all that, she’s terrified. What if Caleb really doesn’t want to come back? What if he’s really returned to his old self? What if, _what if, what if - _

_No. _It’s toxic, it’s a rotten system and Caleb knows it, he told her -

No. They’re doing this.

”How about we just storm the Academy?” Nott suggests finally, and despite her breath reeking of whiskey, her gaze is sharp and clear. ”All stealth and sneaking? A – a heist?”

A half of Beau is tempted to take that seriously, wants to give serious thought but they know fucking _nothing _about the place. She doesn’t know a damn thing about where to even start -

”I still have the recommendation letter,” Fjord’s raspy baritone says behind them, and everyone stops. Looks up. Stares at him in complete flabbergasted silence.

Beau finally recovers enough to say: ”I’m sorry, what?”

A muscle in Fjord’s jaw tightens. He looks exhausted, so _weary. _”Back from Alfield,” he grunts. ”When Jester - ” he nods in her direction, ”did her thing.”

”_What? _Wait, what thing? What, wait, the starosta?” Surprise actually permeates through the fog in Beau’s mind when she realizes she actually knows what Fjord is talking about. ”What the fuck, really?”

”Oh, yeah,” Nott says. ”What was his name even, Clearbarker?”

”Clear-_dorker,” _Jester says because of course she does, desperate to lighten the situation.

”You got a recommendation letter?” Caduceus interrupts curiously.

”Yeah, for the Academy. It was a long time ago when I – when I wanted to go there. I figured it was the best chance to explain what happened to me at sea,” Fjord says, running his claws through his hair.

”Can we use that?” Nott asks. ”We could, right?”

”But I don’t have magic like that anymore.”

”Ooh, magic-schawig, that is not a problem, you guys! We just have to get in! We can totally lie our way through!” Colour returns to Jester’s pale cheeks, and she looks livelier than moments before. ”We are so good at lying.”

A thin, faint smile rises to Beau’s face. ”We are,” she agrees. She can. Under that, she knows just how far she’s willing to go. Fuck _lying, _she’s ready to bully, snarl, fight to get there, just fucking watch her.

”So… are we doing it?” Caduceus asks, tilting his head. She’s not sure if he sounds disapproving or just a little bit admonishing their methods, but she’s beyond caring at this point.

”What else we’ve got?”

”Choices - ”

”Not as good a shot as this. We’re using it. Tonight.”

+

They decide to take a short rest, and the day darkens behind the windows. Lanterns glow yellow and orange in the rain.

Fjord’s sitting near the window, the glow reflecting in his eyes, as the others sleep around the tavern room. Beau’s not one of them. Her mind is too occupied, a buzzing, anxious _mess, _and she can barely concentrate on anything else.

”Can’t sleep?” she asks instead.

”...no. I don’t think I can.”

His voice is thick, gravelly from disuse.

”Yeah? What’re you thinking?” she asks, stepping carefully over Nott who has curled in front of the fire place to sleep.

Fjord snorts, and it’s a terrible sound, too. ”I’m thinking nothing.”

”Yeah? No thoughts about seeing him there?” Beau challenges, and Fjord glances at her, his lips curling downwards.

”Do you?”

She shuts her mouth with a click. ”I meant what I said,” she replies defiantly. ”I’m sure as hell not gonna leave him here.”

Fjord doesn’t reply. There’s certain darkness settling between the furrows on his features.

”I know. I – I just...ah, _fuck.” _With a heavy sigh, he just runs both of his hands through his hair, bowing his head down. She can see quivers going through his shoulders. ”To see him up there, to know what _happened – _I can’t just - _” _

Fjord breathes deeply few times, then lifts his head and stares back at her, his jaw clenched. ”I’m serious, Beau. We’re doing this, and I’m with you – I will _not _give up.” He doesn’t even blink when he looks at her, unmoving. ”No swords,” he rasps. ”Not ever again.”

Beau lets out an exhale. ”Good. Okay.”

Fjord eyes her nervously. ”Just that? ’Okay’?”

”Yeah. My brain’s pretty fried at the moment so ’okay’ is all you’re gonna get, man. It’s good. It’s _okay. _And try to fuckin’ sleep. We’re heading out in a couple of hours.”

”Right back at you. You look like shit.”

”Yeah, I know, thanks. S’an awesome look.”

She climbs back to the bed she’s claimed for her and Jester and tries to calm herself. An hour passes, and she’s half-way wondering alternative ways to infiltrate the Academy, if there are any sewer ways to use, how about the kitchens -

\- when someone knocks on the door.

Instantly everyone flinches wide awake, tensing.

_Knock knock. _

Her mouth dry as sand, Beau gets up and goes for the door.

”Be careful,” she hears Jester murmur from the bed. From the corner of her eye, she can see Fjord reaching for his belt. Can hear the mechanical click of Nott’s crossbow.

Beau doesn’t answer. She turns the door knob and yanks the door open.

Her stomach drops to her knees.

It’s Caleb.

In his uniform, his thin face deathly pale, dark tired shadows around his eyes and looking like he’s been through a shredder.

_(he looks like he’s lost weight)_

He stares at Beau with wet, frantic eyes even though he tries his best to keep his expression in tact.

It doesn’t work.

_(it’s just him, purely him)_

Beau’s hand drops from the door knob.

”_Caleb.” _

It comes out as a hoarse croak.

Caleb forces a smile. A trembling, awful smile. ”_Hallo, _Beauregard.”

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess Caleb rolled perception REALLY HIGH, that scruffy wizard man gets shit done when he puts his mind to it :D (also i've still not caught up so the details might be not accurate)  
Anyway sorry for taking a long break!  
I got a very nice comment yesterday and I got the strength to write 1500 to finish this chapter. So yeah, weird how that works :D I've read every single comment and god you guys are so sweet and kind to me?? I think it's gonna be one more chapter and then the epilogue. Thank you very much for reading and sticking with the story <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they have come around the whole circle.

For a long moment, Beau just stares at Caleb, at his pallid face, his haunted eyes. He’s trembling, he’s _still standing there, _he’s still not crossing the threshold as if he’s not allowed.

This wizard man, this bastard _asshole _who loves his cat and who loves his goddamn friends, loves them and is just as awful at showing it as she is, and he thinks he’s _still not allowed?_

”Beauregard - ” Caleb chokes, his fingers twitching helplessly towards her and gods_, _she’s missed him so deeply.

And he’s here, _alive. _

_Thin, ragged, torn but alive. _

Beau grabs him by the front of his uniform robe and yanks him inside, glances around the corridor just in case and closes the door.

”I – I know you are mad - ” Caleb starts, his voice broken and desperate as if fearing _rejection_, but Beau doesn’t give a damn; she pulls him into a fierce, tight hug.

Caleb flinches stiff before he realizes what’s going on and then he just melts into her, collapsing against her as if all fight, all that frantic energy has been drained from him. He clutches back at her, his head dropping on her shoulder and just _trembles. _

”I’m so sorry, I am so sorry, _Es tut mir so leid - _” she can hear him whispering and she just holds him tighter. She can feel the bones inside the robes, the quick thrum of his pulse, of how terrified he has been.

_She can feel all of it. _It sinks into her skin, all of his suffering. All bare for her to see.

”Shut up, man, you’re here now - ”

”I should have listened to you back then, it would have been much easier, less painful, you were right, you were absolutely right - ”

” - I’m always fuckin’ right, yeah, your message was pure bullshit, by the way, scared at least a decade from my fuckin’ life span, you _asshole - ” _

Caleb’s breathing hitches into a hysterical sob that gets muffled into her shoulder.

”I’m so sorry – I genuinely thought I was going to – I – I _tried _to keep you away, you should have stayed away from this place - ”

”But we fucking didn’t so there, deal with it.” Beau forces herself to pull back so she can see his face, the sallowness and exhaustion bare on his features. She brushes her thumb roughly across his eyebrow. ”You look like shit.”

Caleb huffs out a faint laugh. ”_Ja, _I – I imagine I do. It has been hard. I – ”

Swallowing, he straightens, lifts his head and looks behind Beau’s shoulder, and yeah, she gets it.

_They _get each other on a silent, visceral level that sometimes tangles up in misunderstandings, but they’re _trying, _but this? This is different.

They are both liars.

Pain flickers on Caleb’s face again. ”_Hallo,” _he says weakly, almost shrinking into his robes, but then he clenches his jaw, swallows again and steels himself.

”Caleb,” Jester is the first one to speak and Beau tenses.

Jester’s pain is just as hard to bear.

She angles to look Caleb in the eye, her expression pinched like she’s on the verge of crying, and Caleb – Caleb breaks under that.

Bows his head down in shame, in guilt.

”I am sorry, Jester,” he murmurs because that’s all he’s capable of saying. ”I have nothing else to say than that, but I am for what it’s worth.”

_I get you, man, _Beau thinks, the affection nearly overwhelming her because it’s the same as she tried to fumble through her own frantic apology to Jester.

_We’re a goddamn mess, you and me. _

”You left, Caleb,” Jester whispers and a tight smile crosses her lips. ”Even though we were okay. Even though it wasn’t your fault.”

The sound he makes is hollow. ”It was my fault. It _was. _None of it would have happened if it was not for me, Jester. They attacked all of you simply because you were with me.”

”We _handled _it,” she stresses matter-of-factly like she only can.

A muscle in Caleb’s jaw tightens. ”You all nearly died. You were nearly strangled to death,” he replies, clipped.

”But I got better! I really did! I punched them with my awesome pink unicorn-lollipop hammer and it worked,” Jester counters, her stare unblinking and determined. ”Plus it’s not like it was super hard, that one dude got weak noodle arms and pfft, I’ve had like waaay worse.”

Caleb looks pained. ”It does not make it better, you were almost killed because of me.”

”That didn’t hurt,” Jester says softly, ”but you leaving kinda did.”

Caleb’s shoulders sag forward. ”I was – I had to finish it. I _still _have to finish it,” he whispers, ragged.

”Is – is that why you were at the Academy?” Nott asks hesitantly. ”With – with _them?” _

Caleb closes his eyes, swallows again. A tremor goes through his body like a shockwave. ”_Ja_,” he says. ”That is why. I have to break it. _All of it. _In any way I can.”

”And what, they weren’t suspicious?” Beau asks, alarmed because Ikithon doesn’t seem like a man who just accepts shit like that. ”Like, they didn’t think it was shady, you suddenly on board or shit like that?”

Caleb laughs again, this time mirthless. ”Oh, they did think that. They were very much suspicious. They captured me shortly after I arrived here, I am not sure what clued them in it was me. And then they - ”

He falters, rubs a hand over his right forearm and shudders.

(Beau notices Fjord tensing in alarm)

”They were not very kind,” Caleb finally murmurs, the blue of his eyes reflecting the fire nearby. ”They extracted every protective ward and charm off my body. Ripped them out. I thought I was going to - ”

He chokes, looks away. Draws a deep breath.

”That’s when you sent us that bullshit message,” Beau whispers and reaches for him, almost overwhelmed by the sudden need to comfort him. She grasps his shoulder and squeezes. He reaches back for her, not even looking and covers her hand with his, squeezing tightly.

”_...ja. _I’m sorry for that as well.”

Then, finally -

”...How do you feel, right now?”

_It’s Fjord. _

His deep baritone rumbles, pierces the somber silence, tentatively feeling through it, gently asking_. _

Caleb’s head snaps up, and the look on his face is brutally naked that he doesn’t even try to mask. Absolutely nothing like his expression back on that balcony in the Academy.

”I - ” His voice _breaks. _With that question alone, all of Caleb’s walls are shattered, and he just stares at Fjord numbly like he has never seen him before and now that he sees him, he can’t look away. ”I – honestly? Not good. I do not like being there again. It – it itches under my skin, it burns and it hurts and I _hate _everything about this. Do you know what the worst part is?”

He offers them a shaking smile, humorless and bleak.

”I had good memories there, too, once,” he says. ”It was a happy time, once_. _Before it all went so terribly, _terribly _wrong. Before I did...what – what I _did. _And now… years later, I am back here, I am close being what I was then and I am trying hard not to slip back to that again but what if… what if it is what I am?”

”No,” Fjord snaps. ”Stop it, that right there. You’re _not.” _

Caleb doesn’t startle, he’s never been scared of them and now there’s just a surprised frown. ”The butcher of Blumenthal. The interrogator, the executioner. That is what I was.”

”That was _then _and even then you were a kid, manipulated by a mentor you trusted,” Fjord says. ”You’re older now, you’re different, you carry all that enormous guilt and pain on your shoulders, and still you choose to be better now. To _do _good. And that makes you a good man. And that’s – that’s bloody damn amazing, Caleb.”

Caleb has stilled, staring at Fjord with widened eyes, his lips parted in stunned shock. Then he turns his head away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

”I – thank you. I don’t know how long I can keep it up, but I will try,” Caleb whispers. ”Until the end. Mine or _his.” _

Silence.

The sinews and muscles in Caleb’s throat work.

”So you’re undercover now?” Nott clarifies, wringing her hands anxiously.

”Dangerous that,” Caduceus murmurs.

”_Ja, _it is. But they are short on magically skilled people in their ranks. They are not in the favor of wasting talent, especially during war time. And I was _his _favorite. His prodigy.” Caleb grimaces. ”I will bear it now.”

”For how long?” Fjord asks darkly.

Caleb doesn’t answer right away. He breathes deeply through his nose before looking Fjord in the eyes. ”For as long as it takes,” he says, trying to keep his own voice steady.

Fjord doesn’t quite pale, but his jawline grows tight, the corners of his lips pursing.

”No.”

Caleb doesn’t react. ”No?”

”It’s a damn minefield,” Fjord snaps. ”One wrong move, and they will tear you to shreds - ”

”They already did that when they captured me,” Caleb says tensely back, not looking away from him.

”_Caleb - ” _Nott gasps but Caleb ignores her, keeping his attention on Fjord who is now few shades paler.

Fjord recovers quickly and appears to decide ’fuck it’, because he crosses the room and towers over Caleb. Caleb doesn’t move, just looks him intently in the eye.

”I am going to do this,” he says, but it sounds like his throat hurts. ”Fjord, I will get no better chance than this. He’s going there as well, he’s coming with _us _on the field, I cannot waste this opportunity, not now.”

”There are other options, you don’t have to do this alone - ”

”This is the _best _chance I am going to have,” Caleb repeats, and a deep growl rumbles from Fjord’s chest.

But it’s not anger.

No. It’s worse.

Beau’s heart twists. Caleb is here but it’s _worse. _

Because Fjord – for all his talents, for all his pretense and fake-accents and deep desire to belong _somewhere – _he doesn’t pretend now. Not with them, not with Caleb.

The mask falls from his features, leaving behind only helplessness, despair. Caleb sees it, too, and something in him seems to nearly collapse.

”Fjord. _Fjord.” _His hand twitches, reaches half way to Fjord but doesn’t touch, only hovers near Fjord’s bearded cheek. “You have to let me do this,” he whispers hoarsely. “You have to let me go.”

“To the monster’s belly?” Fjord grunts, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. Not going to happen, you have suffered enough - “

“Not enough to atone and knowing what else happens behind those walls, I have not.”

Fjord stares at him. “Oh, you stubborn son of a _bitch,” _he chokes and now, it sounds wet, hopeless. Beau’s whole chest hurts.

“I am sorry,” Caleb murmurs. “I do not know what else to say but I am_. _There is nothing more that I want than to stay but I can’t_. _Not when I have a chance to stop it. Stop it and _him_.”

“You goddamn menace,” Fjord breathes out but it’s a surrender; he drops his head against Caleb’s. The gesture startles Caleb now but he doesn’t move away.

Suddenly it feels too intimate to witness, and Beau wishes that she could give them any sort of privacy to deal with this, but they’re stuck here. No way are they gonna leave the room in this place, with the Assembly crawling around.

“You are being very insistent with me,” she hears Caleb say quietly, still not pulling away.

_No shit, genius, why the fuck do you think he is like that? _

“Damn right I am,” Fjord replies with a hint of desperate sort of laughter bleeding in. “And _I’ll _be damned if I don’t argue against this, for your sake. For your life, Caleb, of course I’ll argue.”

“I have made up my mind, Fjord.”

“I know.”

It’s a strange tone that strikes to Beau, ringing in her ear like a distorted note. She can’t ignore the pain in Fjord’s voice but there’s also fond amusement in there, too.

Fjord reaches to put a strand of Caleb’s hair behind his ear, a very gentle, simple touch. Letting his touch linger just few seconds more.

Caleb grabs Fjord’s wrist, holding him in place.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly.

“Don’t thank me,” Fjord says back gruffly. “Sending you back there - “

“You are not - “

“No, it – I’m not going to lie to you, it’s killing me, to watch you walk away back into that hell hole, knowing what they have done, but it’s what you want so I will not stop you.”

“_Fjord - “ _

“Just – I – “ Fjord’s voice breaks. Drops lower, deeper into his throat. He shifts, inhales and tries again slower. It’s hard to watch him struggle. “I will be waiting for you. And you _better _do come back, Widogast, I swear to the - “

Caleb smiles; all warmth, softness, sky blue eyes. “I will,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing on Fjord’s beard tenderly. “That is my end of the line. To come _back. _To think of any other conclusion would be… unimaginable.”

It is the last hit to Fjord’s resolve.

“_Please_,” Fjord gasps like all air’s been punched out of him. “I do not care who I have to beg to keep you alive, you’re coming back to us - “

“I _am - “ _

Their breathing wheezes with each shallow gasp, as if they really absorbing each other’s urgency through the almost non-existent space between them.

Caleb holds onto Fjord’s wrist, their noses nearly brushing together.

“Please be careful,” Fjord continues, his eyes dark, desperate. He’s _begging. _Beau doesn’t know why that rattles her to the very core. “I’m not joking, for fuck’s sake, _please_ be careful.”

“I am. I know how to tread this. I know how they operate. And I know how to lie. This… this is familiar. And I do not wish that it is, but it is an advantage. A rare one, _ja. _I’ll go and… and I will end the cycle. I will break it. I will end _him _with my own hands_. _No more. No more children groomed for this wheel. And then… then I will come home. To you.”

The sound Fjord makes is nothing short of heartbreaking, it’s pure agony and need, and he captures Caleb’s mouth in a hard kiss, not giving one damn that everyone sees.

(Jester squeaks, slams her hands to her mouth, Nott barely suppresses her screech, and Caduceus just hums curiously, regarding them.)

(they are so bad, gods_)_

Not that these two assholes give a damn about them at this point, they are too immersed in each other. Too unwilling to part, not now.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Beau hears Fjord growl against Caleb’s mouth.

“You do not have to. But – but thank you, Fjord," Caleb replies, lifts his head and presses a chaste, slow kiss on Fjord’s mouth and that’s somehow more romantic than their first one Beau’s seen. She feels her face turning red hot.

Realizing that Caleb has initiated, Fjord sags into Caleb, and a mixture of bliss and longing cross his features as he kisses back, honey-sweet and just as slow.

Then, the moment passes. Caleb pulls back, brushes his nose against Fjord’s again and murmurs: “I have to go back. They are suspicious, and this was only possible for a short moment.”

Fjord grabs Caleb’s hand and runs the pad of his thumb on the soft skin across Caleb’s pulse point as if imprinting the very sound of that flutter into his memory. _Counting. _

She can see just how painful it is for Caleb to leave, the way he can’t hide behind his mask now, how difficult it is to pull it back on.

He wrenches his gaze from Fjord and finds hers. It’s not even close to being the same thing but Caleb relaxes at the sight of her and offers her a faint, apologetic smile.

“I am sorry, Beauregard.”

“You know you should really stop fuckin’ apologizing for shit all the time, it’s getting so old,” she says but it’s not stern. Her throat burns as the realization sinks into her buzzing brain – she has to watch this asshole of a wizard leave again towards his own goddamn doom and _they’re going to let him do that. _

_Willingly. _

Caleb leans in to kiss her forehead.

“Be careful as well,” he murmurs.

“We gonna hear from you?”

_(- ever again?) _ That thorned, sharp thought haunts her. _Is this the last time we’re gonna see you alive? _

Caleb offers her a smile. It’s an old man’s smile, tired and weary. But he’s trying.

_(he always does, their caleb)_

“Of course. I will send word whenever I can.” The corners of his eyes crinkle, and that sight is devastating. Warm, tender. “No coming back in coffins, Beauregard.”

She nearly breaks.

“I’m fucking holdin’ onto that so you better make good on your goddamn word,” she chokes, the edges of her vision burning. “You hear me?”

“Of course,” he murmurs again, the asshole. He takes her hand and presses another kiss on her knuckles. “You are so very dear to me.”

_This fuckin’ dick. _

Beau raises her fist, her fist that she realizes is shaking and presses it firmly against Caleb’s chest.

“Back at’cha, Caleb. So listen to us. And fuckin’ ask for help if you need it, seriously. We’re here and we wanna hear from you.”

“I do not want to worry you - “

“And like I said before, asshole, tough shit ‘cause we’re gonna worry either way, no matter what you say. We came here even after you told us not to ‘cause we want you to be fuckin’ okay. So don’t you dare do that again and just trust us.” She hesitates. “And – and we’re gonna trust you on this. No matter where you’re gonna be. Frontlines or whatever the shit hole _wherever_. Just fucking ask. Yeah?”

Caleb hums, and Beau is almost overwhelmed by the affection in his eyes. “_Ja,” _ he says, sincere. _Honest._ “I will.”

She squeezes his hand. Her own hand is trembling in his.

Jester appears next to Beau and proceeds to hug him tightly. “Good luck, Cay-leb! Come back, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Jester.”

She rises on her tip-toes and plants a kiss on his cheek. “For good luck.” The look on her face shifts near uncertainty to hesitation and she tries to smile through it. “I’m really, really gonna miss you, you know.”

“I know. I will miss you as well.”

Tears glimmer in her eyes and she giggles, muffled and strangled. “I’m gonna show you soooo many dick pictures I’m gonna copy to your spell book.”

That makes him snort out a surprised laugh. “I will look forward to it,” he replies warmly.

“Safe travels, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus says with quiet serenity and then frowns in confusion. “Fair winds and – and steady foot? Feet? I don’t know what they say. I’ll ask the Wildmother to look after you.”

“That is kind of you, thank you. It was good to see you, my friend. Oh, Nott...”

Nott wraps her short arms around Caleb’s waist, whispering something into his robes, something only he can hear.

(he pats her head gently, murmurs back.)

After that Caleb moves toward the door, and then he turns toward them, one last time. He’s still thin, tired and gaunt but there’s longing, love, _hope _shining from him like a sun-painted halo.

Fjord can’t help himself and takes Caleb’s hand, one last time. Palm against palm. One faded scar against another faded scar. _Together. _Fingers intertwined. Holding on, one last time.

“See you soon,” Fjord breathes out.

Caleb nods, not looking away from Fjord’s amber-warm gaze. “See you soon.”

_I love you._

And with that, Caleb lets go of Fjord’s hand, turns, straightens his back into steel and leaves for the third time, and the Mighty Nein – they are already more than aware of his painful absence.

+

_Come back to us alive. _

_+_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left! We're almost there, it's almost done! I'm hoping to finish this in a week or two! Thank you so much for all the amazing comments, you've been so sweet and kind!! <3


	5. the epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb finally reaches his end of the line.

Caleb trudges through mud and puddles. The reeking water soaks into his boots, into his socks. He can hear the wet breathing in his ears, a wheeze that burns his lungs.

It hurts. Each inhale, each exhale makes him gurgle. He coughs, sways on his feet a bit and grimaces.

_ Scheiße, _ _ should have been more careful, _ he thinks bitterly. _Stupid mistake. _

He hisses with pain when the heavy fabric of his coat brushes against the raw welts etched on his right forearm – he’s no stranger to any sort of pain but he’s always reminded how much burn marks hurt, and this time is no different.

There is satisfaction – but mostly exhaustion, not quite emptiness that he guesses will turn into dull sort of acceptance over time. He’s done what he can but there’s a part of him – that cynical, merciless thing inside his skin that whispers he’s only delayed the inevitable.

Ikithon was only a cog in a larger machine.

There will always be more.

_But not in the Academy. Not by him. Not anymore. _

Caleb forces himself to stop by a nearby tree, leans against the wet bark and closes his sore eyes for a moment. Lets himself breathe. His lungs are on fire.

(his breathing is still a broken rattle. that is probably not a good thing.)

_Have to keep moving. _

_I have to get there. _

Magic has burned his energy into barely glowing embers. Been torn off, cut off, amputated -

_Only fitting, I suppose._

Frumpkin makes a soft, worried noise and presses his head into Caleb’s cheek. His comforting weight on Caleb’s shoulder grounds him.

“I’m glad to have you with me, old friend,” he murmurs and turns his head to kiss Frumpkin’s head. “_Oy, _it’s going to be a long trek.”

Frumpkin closes his eyes slowly, and his purring vibrates into Caleb.

_All right. _

Jester had contacted him four days ago, informing him that they would be staying near Druvenlode for at least few days. There hasn’t been any new information besides that so Caleb does his best to get there in time.

If he doesn’t suffocate on his own blood before that.

His head pounding, hot blood rushing in his ears, Caleb pushes himself up, draws a shaky sigh and sets on the road again.

+

“_Caaaleb, are you there? Did you get our last message? ‘Cause if you diiiid, you didn’t answeeer, and we’re still here! Waiting!” _

A pause, then Jester’s voice wavers, nearly breaks: “_Please answer, ‘kay?” _

Caleb strangles out a sob. He’s drenched, fever ravages through him, chills shaking him to the core. _Just a little bit more. I am sorry, Jester, cannot answer you. Please understand - _

Frumpkin nuzzles Caleb under his jaw, pressing closer.

_I know. Just a little bit more. We will get there. _

+

There had to be a price for his mission, after all.

Caleb’s been masochistic enough to appreciate poetic irony.

+

“_Caleb? Are you okay? Please be okay?” _

_+_

Caleb arrives Druvenlode.

It’s an ice-cold evening; Caleb’s breathing has turned white with frost. Shuddering, he holds his side under his coat as he makes his way through the cobble-stoned street towards the nearest inn.

His head feels like splitting apart.

_Please be this. Please be here. Please be the end. _

He stumbles inside. It’s cozy in the inn; full of yellow, homely glow, the scent of sausages, garlic and potatoes. The chatter of the patrons inside, the crackle of the fire place.

There innkeeper – a rather stocky halfling behind the desk – raises her eyebrows at him as she spots him.

“You don’t look so good, mate,” she says warily, her tone flat.

Caleb huffs a laugh, sounding nearly hysterical under all the exhaustion and pain. “_Ja,” _he says. “Is – is there – by any chance – an – an adventuring party here? A – a tiefling, a monk, a half-orc, a – a halfling - ?”

The innkeeper narrows her eyes at him. “Why?” she asks suspiciously.

Caleb forces a smile; a broken, tired thing. “Because I have been looking for them,” he rasps. “For a very long time. And I have missed them. So very much. Please. _Please.” _

He’s beyond caring what this innkeeper thinks of him.

He doesn’t give a damn that he’s begging.

He’s clawed his way here, half-dead, soaked, terrified out of his mind, he needs to be here after everything that has happened, he needs to be with his family, so he’s asking.

The halfling lady observes him for a moment, her expression unreadable.

“Could be,” she says finally. “Not gonna tell you the straight answer, dangerous questions, those.”

Caleb digs through his pocket and hands her a handful of coins, not even bothering to look.

_(once he would’ve counted, gritted his teeth, counted them obsessively, each coin in his fingers)_

Without blinking, she takes them, puts them in her apron pocket and says: “Might want to check the second floor, particularly the room number 45.”

Caleb gets up the stairs. He’s not sure if his vision is getting blurrier with every step but he grips the railing with white knuckles, trying to keep steady.

_Number 45. Number 45. _

Feverishly, he fumbles his way through the second floor, the numbers flashing in his eyes. _Number 42 – 43 – 44 - _

_45._

Caleb pauses at the door, hesitating.

He hates the feel of uncertainty gnawing at him.

He left. He _left. _He left them for the third time, he said good-bye to their faces and he walked away.

Despite the messages, despite Jester’s cheery-_getting-more-desperate _voice updating him regularly, asking him how he is and telling him dick jokes, he’s still terrified.

_(am I still welcome back? Do they resent me, despite everything?) _

Caleb rests his forehead against the door, taking in a shuddering breath.

_Please tell me I have not burned that bridge with me._

_Please._

_(he doesn’t think he’s able to recover from that if that is the truth - )_

He knocks, closing his eyes. Waits. Holds his breath.

As he waits, he can feel every day, every week, _every month _that he’s been away, it makes his bones heavier, his skin feel brittle and thin. He’s swaying under all that crushing weight.

_Please. _

“Who’s there?” a suspicious voice asks behind the door, and Caleb’s knees nearly give out.

He manages to bite back a weak smile. “Fourth time is the charm, Beauregard.”

A pause. _Silence. _

Then the door slams wide open, and Beauregard stands there, her face pale and her eyes wide.

Her throat works as she tries to swallow, to get her voice out, and Caleb expects a sharp, snarky response, some off-handed sneer maybe if she’s angry with him (as is her right, she has to be, he’s walked out so many times now) -

\- but she does none of those.

She grabs his head between her hands and stares at his face like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“Caleb,” she says, her voice rough, hoarse, her eyes flickering across his face as if looking for visible wounds. “You fucking asshole, you’re _alive.__” _

_There it is. _

He leans against her palm. It feels real. She’s warm, her hands are calloused and safe, and she’s real. _Really her. _Purely, definitely her, rough around the edges, vicious and raw.

_He really made it. _

“I am.”

“Shut up, stop fucking agreeing with me,” she gets out and pulls him into a fierce hug.

He sags into the embrace, wrapping his own arms around her just as tightly.

_She’s solid, she’s safe, she’s Beauregard. Home. _

_Finally, finally._

“What the hell, you’ve lost a fuckton of weight, man ,” he hears her mutter into his hair.

“_Ja,” _he murmurs back, “it was not an easy ride.”

“No shit.” Her palm settles on his back, trying his spine. “What the fuck - Caleb, seriously, I can feel your fucking bones through this, what the _hell _– what happened?”

Caleb shudders, trying to form words. It’s difficult; his voice is hoarse and broken, the words jumble and tangle in his mind.

“It is over,” he whispers, lifts his head to look at her eyes. She’s the steadiest thing he knows. “Beauregard, it is finally over.”

Her grip tightens instinctively around him. “Yeah?”

“..._ja. _I – I killed him.” It’s the first time Caleb’s said it aloud, and it nearly knocks him on his knees. “I killed Trent Ikithon.”

Beauregard pauses. “And are you cool with that?” she asks carefully, her eyebrows knitting together.

“I am. I – I have made my peace with it and my part in doing it,” Caleb replies and he means it. He’s so honest he might as well bleed out with the truth of it. “I – it was not pretty.”

It makes her snort. “Yeah, didn’t fuckin’ think so, he seemed like a guy who pulled all the dirty tricks to keep you in line. How did that go?”

“Not well. No, it did not, I – I followed them to the – what?”

“C’mon in, we’re not havin’ this in the doorway_, _it’s fuckin’ freezing here plus these assholes around here are so nosy and you just straight-up confessed to a fuckin’ murder so drag your ass in here - “

For the first time Caleb realizes that Beauregard is the only one in the room.

“Where are the others?” he asks, trying not to be nervous since she doesn’t seem to be and he forces himself to take comfort in that.

She drags him near the fire place, forces him to sit down and some of the coldness drains from his limbs. “Left town to deal with shit, don’t worry, they’re okay. We’re gonna catch up with them later, whatever,” she says, then frowns at him and tugs roughly a strand of Caleb’s hair behind his ear.

Still, it’s uncharacteristically gentle, so obviously meant as a way to ease his worry_, _and Caleb says nothing, just melts and allows her to fuss.

_(he feels like he can finally breathe.)_

_(after months, months of pretending and being back in that skin of his that he hated and was so good at once upon a time, he’s back to himself, being caleb, he’s back and he can finally breathe - ) _

“I always worry,” he replies mildly with a slightly hitched laugh.

“No shit, you do. S’a wonder you’re not totally grayed out, man.” This time Beauregard tugs at his hair in an admonishment, albeit a fond one. Then, her expression grow somber. “Wanna talk about it?”

Caleb closes his eyes. “_Ja. _ I – I do. If you… if you allow me to. _”_

“Dude, you’ve been away for months, I wanna hear everything you want to tell me, so fuckin’ spill.” A gruff pause. “I mean, if you’re cool with that, too, I guess.”

Caleb pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. She doesn’t push him. “He came with us to the field.”

His voice rasps, becomes older, even in his own ears.

She tenses.

“Fuck, the frontlines?”

“Not quite, but close enough for it to count. Mainly stealth missions, subterfuge, scouting and providing cover for the troops. But… it was unlike him to come along, to dirty his hands, blood-soaked as they were in the first place. Eodwulf did not like it and he liked even less that I was coming along as well. He was suspicious.”

“Yeah?”

“..._ja. _He did not believe my motives. Of course he did not, they are suspicious of everything, naturally and my absence and running away from the Asylum did not prove them exactly wrong. And me to come with them? Not likely. But he trusted Ikithon and his judgement. At some level, at least. The man who made everything possible for him.”

Beauregard tenses. “Yeah?”

“Mmh-hmm. My chance came a week ago. There was no better opportunity than that, Beauregard, I took it and I murdered him.”

Beauregard’s gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t flinch at his bluntness; she stares back at him, still and unmoving. “Killed him good?” she asks him, her voice dark.

He sets his jaw, grinds his teeth together.

“_Ja,” _he says, weary. “I burned him, his flesh and bone and magic into ash and he felt every second of it burning away. He fell into the shit and the mud and blood and did not rise again.”

She reaches to squeeze his bony shoulder. “What then? I guess his men probably didn’t take it well, huh?”

Caleb barks out a dry, heaving sort of laugh that has no humor in it. “_Ja, _that is… an understatement. Eodwulf was away, scouting ahead with few of his men. That’s when Ikithon came to talk to me. About… before. About Soltryce. About how good I used to be. What happened to me. What I did. Asylum.” He swallows. “My parents.”

She tenses, her protective instincts rising. “_Shit - “ _

“He talked, and I listened. I waited and listened but Beauregard, it was very difficult. So, so difficult, there was nothing more I wanted than to – I – I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.”

“You didn’t?” Beauregard’s voice is flat, dark.

“No. We conversed, all polite and shallow. Well, he did. It was all a game.” Fire reflects from Caleb’s eyes, almost glassy. “I waited. No one else was there. Just us, in the dark of our camp. And he was still standing there, still _talking_.”

Caleb’s breathing gets shakier. “I – I still had the Collar of Silence.”

Beauregard’s eyes widen. “Holy shit, you did?”

“_Ja. _Kept it at hand. Hid it. For… an opportunity like this. So I… seized the moment. And then…he was quiet. For once. And I burned him. My flames ate him. Until there was nothing else left but ash and bone.”

It still flickers under Caleb’s lids, and nausea, hot bile twists in his gut when he remembers the horrified look on Ikithon’s face when he realized that he was going to die.

“He was a mortal man,” he murmurs, “for all the nightmares and horrors he created, he was still a man, and he still burned.”

“Good.”

It makes him startle. “_Ja?” _

“The guy was an asshole. Like, not even that, but the worst kinda asshole there is, a fucking monster, and I’m glad he went down like a sack of shit, okay?”

Caleb allows himself to breathe out. “_Ja, _okay. Thank you.”

“Would’ve been there to help you in a goddamn heartbeat.”

“… I know. But I am glad you were not there. It was not a pretty situation to be in.”

“Not good enough reason. Would’ve been there, none-the-fucking-less, frontlines or no. He – what’s wrong?”

Caleb’s shifted in place, wincing as the pain flares across his arm. Too late, she’s noticed.

“You’re _injured?”_ Her tone is just a bit accusatory. “Caleb, seriously, the hell - “

“They were not kind, I told you that before. And Eodwulf saw no reason to hold back after he found out what happened. What I did to Ikithon.”

“What, he saw you?”

“_Ja, _there was no – not enough time to leave. I’m afraid I – I miscalculated. He saw my fire and came back to the camp. And he found me and… what was left of Ikithon.”

_The worst thing was - _

_\- was the senseless flash of hurt, the betrayal that flickered in Eodwulf’s eyes._

Oh, Caleb remembered and nostalgia is a bittersweet sort of poison.

_(how could we have known we would end up here?)_

Old, faded memories of Blumenthal. Of happier times, when there was laughter, jokes, childhood innocence.

_We came so far now years later, I am sorry that we were led to this point. That we chose this and how we came to be here. _

_But I am not sorry for killing our mentor. _

Eodwulf’s rage had spilled over and burned Caleb, and they now marked him with a brand on his skin.

Caleb pulls the robe sleeve back, revealing raw skin, ugly with angry red welts, oozing and looking like the worst kind of scald. The edges are darkened. It’s still no better than the day he got it.

_The backstabber, the traitor._

He hears Beauregard’s cut-off inhale; she’s pursed her lips, scowling at his arm. “That’s – severely fucked up,” she says, sounding a little strangled. “That shit’s magic, right?”

“_Ja, _a curse,” he nods, relieved that she’s understood. “It interfered with my magic, cut it off in a way and it is still not working effectively. He was...very angry with me.”

That makes her look up sharply. “_What?” _

“The curse seems to be temporary, I can feel some of the magic trickling back in.”

“That’s supposed to be comforting? What the hell, man, that’s not – _what? _It is coming back, right?”

“Eventually would be my guess,” Caleb replies calmly, having freaked out about it a week before and it was no less awful. It still sits wrong in him, but he’s somewhat accepted what’s happened. The price he had to pay. “It will just take time. It is just… unpleasant to look at now.”

“Fuck unpleasant, man, it looks fucking _painful_.”

“Oh, _ja_, that too.”

“Unbelievable. How the hell are you this chill?”

“I wasn’t. Definitely not.” Caleb lifts his head to look at her. “But now? It is because I am here. It’s over. Finally. I – I have the luxury to be… ‘chill’ now, I suppose.” He smiles – the first real, warm, _sweet _smile taking over his face and it feels so liberating. “Thank you, Beauregard.”

He means that.

He means that every single time he says it, he means it _until the day he dies._

Beauregard’s cheeks grow red, but then with a gruff, embarrassed snort, she nudges him. “Yeah, yeah, s’cool, whatever, you too.” She pauses to ruffle his hair roughly. “...it’s good to see you, Caleb. Seriously. Y’know I’m shit at sayin’ it, but I am. Happy to see you.”

He hums and drops his head on her shoulder.

“It is very good to see you, too.”

He’s so tired.

He’s fought, he’s clawed his way here and he’s finally reached the end of the line. His home, his family.

She rests her cheek against his hair.

_He can finally rest. _

He closes his eyes. Draws a deep breath.

_(if I die here - _

_\- in this moment -_

_\- right here, right now - _

_\- i’d be all right with it)_

+

They set off soon, the next day. The rain has stopped, but it’s still dreary and bleak. The sunlight is pale and barely warms them.

”Ugh, I fucking hate the mud, this sucks.”

”You would have hated the fields.”

”Yeah, no shit, it was probably all kinds of fucked up.”

”Mmh-hmm.”

”Still would’ve been there. No, shut up, not gonna debate this with you. Drink this.”

”Beauregard, you have to stop fussing.”

”Just fucking try to stop me. _D__rink, _c’mon_.” _

Caleb pauses to take a sip of the water. ”How… how was he?” he asks quietly, half-surprised at himself for asking that aloud.

Beauregard spares him a glance. ”I told you.”

”No, you told me about everyone. Vaguely, I might add. But what about...” Caleb hesitates again, because he really doubts he can handle asking her twice.

She doesn’t take exactly take pity on him because she – for her own part – is quite done with pining in general.

She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, daring him to specify.

Caleb purses his mouth.

”How is Fjord?” he finally asks, his cheeks burning. He feels too naked for asking about him specifically, it means admitting something to her, but then again, he did kiss Fjord in front of everyone so what does he even know.

+

_Good gods, why am I doing this? _

But because Caleb got balls to finally ask her straight, she relents and just barely resists rolling her eyes to the back of her skull because _goddamnit, they are a bunch of pining losers. _

”Not gonna lie, I think I’ve lost brain cells following this whole pining train wreck.”

”Beauregard - ”

”No, shut up, you asked so shut your face and listen to the damn answer, all right?” Beau softens her tone. ”We all been fucking worried about you, okay? All of us. It’s been bullshit, hearing the news and you barely answering – and it’s cool, we knew the situation but still it was hard. And then getting no reply, like, at all, not even one. Thought you might be dead for all we knew. But for him – ”

Beau bites her lip. Fjord’s been quiet, closed-off, somber. Not really snapping, but tense. Beau snapped once when Fjord had grown short with Jester, and Beau had snarled at him:

”_Look! I know you’re fucking worried about him, I am too! I’m scared shitless something’s gonna happen to him and we wouldn’t be none the fucking wiser! __That he’s lying alone in some goddamn ditch! __But __you gotta__ stop being an asshole to everyone, __man__ – that doesn’t help! I know it’s hard – it’s sometimes fucking unbearable, but we just gotta fucking wait for him!” _

Fjord’s face had hardened into a dark scowl but finally he had nodded and apologized to Jester.

It’d been quiet after that, too.

”He was quiet,” she says. ”Kinda an asshole, too, but he got better eventually.”

She remembers the way Fjord’s voice broke once. Exhausted almost to the point of delirium, he had whispered, ragged: _”Do you think he will be all right?” _

Beau had the same fear rolling in her; and she forced herself to be honest. _”Probably not, ’cause Ikithon sucks, but I hope so. Eventually, maybe? He’s a clever bastard, he can do it. And when he comes back, he’ll have us, too.” _

”We talked about you few times.”

Caleb pales, his nerves and uncertainty making him tense. ”You did? What – what about?” he asks anxiously.

She eyes him dryly. ”Coupla things – y’know, how stubborn you can be or how annoyingly perceptive you are or you are about your books – no, I’m fucking joking, chill the hell out, you loser,” she says and pokes him on the nose. ”He was worried about you so we talked. Nothing bad, promise.”

”I really don’t believe that.”

”Be optimistic for once, we weren’t talking shit. Not like he would hear about it, anyway,” she snorts. A man in love is so annoying. It still is, even after the first time Caleb left them.

Beau leaves out the part where she totally tried to drill the answer from Fjord.

”_So, just straight-up kissed him, huh?” _

_Fjord flushed, flustered and gruff. ”Yeah, I suppose I did.” _

”_Nah, definitely did. Think I saw tongue, too. __Way to go, man.__” _

”_You did not __see tongue__.” _

”_You don’t wanna el__a__borate on why you did any of that?” _

”_No, not really. A__ctually I do not want to el__a__borate __on __that a__t all.”_

”_Oh, __shit, __no?” _

”_I can’t stress just how little I want to do that.” _

+

”You can tell what time it is but you don’t know which path leads forward. That’s just sad, man.”

”I know which way the north is?”

”Okay, y’know, I didn’t ask which way the damn north is – which is that way, by the way, I know shit, too. Yeah, learnt that, while you were gone, cool, right?C’mon.” A pause. ”Your arm doing okay?”

”..._ja, _it is. Thank you.”

”Tell me if it gets worse.”

”Will do. Do not worry.”

”Yeah, not gonna happen.”

+

They arrive to a small village-like settlement by the road that Caleb is unsure he’s seen on the maps.

They stop to ask if they’ve seen any group that fits the description of the Mighty Nein and together are quite convincing.

”Oh yeah,” one elven man exclaims, snapping his fingers. ”We did see – but uh...” He trails off and grimaces, ”… they were quite something.”

”Seems to fit them, yeah,” Beau deadpans, her mind already jumping ahead. ”Okay, what did they do?”

”Oh, nothing! Well, if I’m perfectly honest, though I can’t exactly prove it, I think one of them drew a - ” The elven man blushes and whispers like it’s a conspiracy: ”… a _penis. _To one of the inn’s outside walls.”

Caleb chokes.

Beau barely manages to suppress her smug grin. _That’s my girl. _

”Huh. Vandals,” she replies, managing to sound neutral.

”Quite,” the elven man nods hastily. ”We’ve been trying to clean it but it doesn’t come off. Wait.” His eyes widen in horror. ”That was a pun, wasn’t it? No! I didn’t mean that!”

”As unfortunate as that is – apologies, but in which way did they go?”

The elven man blinks and then looks relieved. ”To the north-east, from here, down that road. Do you have any tips how to get the penis off?”

+

”No, Beauregard.”

”C’mon, it was fucking hilarious.”

”..._ja, _all right. It was a little funny.”

+

Their journey ends up after three days.

It’s a rather small town, Beau isn’t sure of it’s name since Jester made fun of it – but she’s more than confident they’ve arrived to the right location.

It’s obvious Caleb gets more anxious the nearer they get; he’s wringing his hands, his mouth is drawn back into a tense line.

”Would you stop freaking out?” she says, bumping him. ”Seriously.”

”It will not stop just because you said so, Beauregard.”

”Well, it should ’cause I’m right. They’re not gonna be mad at you.”

”You do not know that.”

”Hey, full offense, I do know that – also that’s totally not sense-talking, that’s your mind freaking the hell out and twisting it around and that’s another whole thing. ’Cause no one hates you. So ease up, Caleb, s’gonna be okay.”

Caleb doesn’t argue this time but he is quite pale.

She grabs his forearm, and he relaxes, just a bit. She counts it as a victory. ”C’mon, this way, we can probably cut through here.”

”_Ja, _lead – lead the way,” he croaks and allows himself to be led through the streets and alley-ways.

And she does lead him.

The sunlight is sharp now. The air is cold, makes their breathing fog. They arrive to the inn’s empty courtyard and Beau scowls at the wooden sign.

”Okay, this is it, awesome, finally, thank fuck, think we can just – Caleb?”

Caleb’s frozen, suddenly, his arm has gone tense in Beau’s grip. Panic seizes Beau for a split second before she realizes what Caleb’s seen.

There’s someone sitting by an oak tree on the courtyard’s garden.

She can feel Caleb shaking.

She hears him swallow, hears his breathing hitching.

Before she can tell him to go to him, Caleb pulls slowly his arm free from her fingers as if he’s distracted and makes his way towards the tree.

”Fjord.”

_Fee-yord. _

There’s always something in the way Caleb says it – carefully pronounced, his accent bleeding in it, making it somehow more private. This time it’s no different. It’s halting, nervous, breathing it out.

The man leaning against the tree jolts, his head snapping up, and even in the fuzzy morning light, Beau can see his amber eyes are wide and shocked. He scrambles on his feet.

_Fucking gods, couldn’t even comb his stupid hair. _

But Fjord stares at Caleb, drinking him in. His chest is barely even moving.

”Caleb,” he rasps, his baritone deeper and rougher. ”_Caleb.” _

The moment stretches, an inhale of infinity. Caleb steps in front of him, his head already angling up to gaze at Fjord.

”_Hallo, _Fjord,” he says with a trembling smile, and Beau realizes just how scared Caleb has really been during this whole time.

She doesn’t really give enough credit to Caleb for these small moments of bravery that he does; he might’ve gone through hell during the past months and his mind is more than capable of lying to him about the most fundamental things about their group, but he still tries his best so desperately.

And Beau – god, she really loves this wizard asshole so much.

Fjord reaches for Caleb, his shaking hand hovering over Caleb’s cheek, as if not daring to touch him. Not yet.

”You’re here,” Fjord breathes out. ”Are you actually here?”

That makes Caleb smile, and this time it’s fond. ”Oh, _ja, _I’m afraid so. Probably looking like an – uh, run over weasel but here. Was there any doubt?”

”No,” is Fjord’s instant, gruff reply. ”Never. Not about that. Just…just about the manner of your return.”

_Don’t come back in a goddamn coffin, Caleb. _

It counts here, too. Perhaps Caleb hears it as well, the fear lingering there because an anguished shadow flickers across his thin face and he leans into Fjord’s palm. Pressing his cheek against that faded scar, identical of his own.

Fjord’s shoulders sag, and he runs the pad of his thumb across Caleb’s cheekbone and under his eye.

”You look so tired, Caleb,” he grunts and appears to be unable to help himself and leans forward to rest his forehead against Caleb’s.

It looks too intimate again, but Beau can’t bring herself to move.

”_Ja, _it – it has been a very long three months,” Caleb whispers back and moves to bury his fingers into fine hairs in Fjord’s nape. Beau catches a tremor going through his arm, a barely noticeable wince that Caleb makes when the motion catches on his injury.

Fjord notices it, too, now alarmed. ”Caleb - ?”

” - it is all right, it’s healing, please – please, not now. _Please.” _

Caleb’s hoarse voice nearly cracks.

Fjord hesitates, still looks worried but relents and slumps further into Caleb’s touch.

Not that Beau has ever looked, but she isn’t sure she’s ever seen touching quite like _that – _where it’s mapping out, tentative, slow and so impossibly gentle, so careful with each other.

Like the moment between them is glass-fragile, on the brink of breaking if they speak too loudly.

The palms running across the planes of each other’s sides, feeling the bruises, feeling the bones sticking out under the clothes, the warmth seeping out into the very pores. Feeling each rise of the ribs, imprinting every breath into memory.

Reaffirming that it’s real, that they are real, here and alive.

It’s so intimate in such a startling way that evokes a fleeting sting of something sour and jealous inside her.

_If she could do that – just once, to see the star-like constellations on blue skin, to see **her** happy grin - _

Caleb makes a strange sound – a breathless, stuttering exhale, their noses affectionately brushing together and their lips are still not touching, like that one breath has expanded too far between them, both of them bare with _longing - _

Fjord takes Caleb’s head between his large hands, holding him with such tender care and kisses Caleb like he’s starved for him.

In response Caleb nearly collapses into him, closing the inch of space between them. There’s nothing refined about the kiss; relief makes it sloppy, open-mouthed and messy. They cling onto each other, just holding on for dear life.

Beau hears Caleb huff out a wet laugh against Fjord’s mouth, can see the genuine happiness on Caleb’s face, even from this angle.

And it’s wonderful to see.

They’re whispering now to each other, their voices quiet, just murmurs and reassuring nonsense, breathing out confessions and -

_she’s so happy for them. _

Shaking her head with amused exasperation, Beau leaves them alone and heads in the inn.

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!  
Sorry for taking so long, I really haven't had much energy to write but I managed to finish this, finally! This covid's been so stressful - I work as a nurse at a health care center so work's been very overwhelming.  
Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me till the end and being so impossibly lovely with your kind comments, I've been reading them and I'm so grateful for your support, it means a lot!  
Have a wonderful day, you all and be safe!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
I'm back with my bullshit, horribly rusty and so stressed out by real life - finally got a job and it's really eating all my energy. I still adore Critical Role with all my heart, and I wanted to try something else. So this isn't that serious. Probably. (it'll probably end up biting me in the ass, but we'll see!)  
Anyway, thank you very much for reading, and if you see any grammar mistakes or clunkiness or weird idioms or stuff like that, please tell me, not a native speaker. <3


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